


space adventures and accidents

by laireshi



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, some Peter pain, some Tony pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony likes space and Peter. Peter likes space and Tony. Sometimes this doesn't make everything all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. not alone

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [космические приключения и происшествия](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244450) by [Heidel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heidel/pseuds/Heidel)
  * Translation into Español available: [Space adventures and accidents](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891794) by [Nahira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nahira/pseuds/Nahira)



> This is a collection of starkquill drabbles that I posted on [my tumblr](http://laireshi.tumblr.com) at some point. They all have happy ending, so far.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First posted [here](http://laireshi.tumblr.com/post/86891201342/starkquill-drabble).

Tony is on the bridge, staring at the stars outside, when Peter finds him.

“Up so late?” Peter asks, careful to keep his tone light.

Tony tenses. Peter counts five long breaths before he answers. “I couldn’t sleep.”

It’s a simple sentence. But in the beginning, he’d say _I’m fine, it’s nothing, I’m enjoying the view, don’t you worry your pretty head, Quill_. And Peter knows how much it still costs Tony to admit to something like that.

He moves forward, stops half a step behind Tony. He could reach out and touch him, now, remind him he wasn’t alone, but he stays still. Sometimes Tony accepts affection. More often, he runs, apologies on his tongue, haunted look in his eyes.

 _I don’t deserve it_ , he said once, terrifyingly honest, and Peter can’t express how much he hated to hear it. How he wishes he could make Tony see the truth.

Tony surprises him when he turns around, faces Peter. He’s pale, a white butterfly bandage over his eyebrow isn’t that different in colour to his skin. He has one of Peter’s t-shirts on, and his left hand is bandaged from the wrist to his elbow. He keeps himself unnaturally straight, and Peter knows that if he were to strip him now, he’d found elastic tape keeping his ribs in place. Tony’s armour is good, very good, but even the best of Earth’s technology isn’t much far in space.

“Want some painkillers for that?” Peter asks quietly.

Tony shakes his head. He’s silent.

“Tony –”

“Why are you here?” he asks, quietly.

Peter shrugs. “I didn’t want to be alone.” He didn’t want Tony to be alone, he doesn’t say.

“I’m fine,” Tony says, and there it is, always a lie.

“What if I’m not?” Peter offers.

Tony laughs, quietly.

Peter risks it, and reaches out, pulls Tony into a loose embrace. If he wants to run, Peter will let him, of course.

But Tony doesn’t. He leans his chin on Peter’s shoulder and stays, his hands still at his sides, his breath ghosting over Peter’s neck.

Peter smiles to himself, and hugs him tight.


	2. darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First posted [here](http://laireshi.tumblr.com/post/93431472502/for-the-longest-time-theres-just-darkness-he). Written for [Noha :)](http://nohaijiachi.tumblr.com)

For the longest time, there's just darkness.

He can't move.

He's not sure if he's bound or drugged or if it's a telepath holding him. He's not sure how he got there. He's not sure of anything but the darkness.

(That's a lie. There are constants: he's Tony Stark, Iron Man, an Avenger, he thinks that means he's a hero but he's not sure on that. Tony Stark, Iron Man, a temporary Guardian of the Galaxy. That might mean he's a hero too, but he's even less sure about it. Tony Stark, Iron Man, and he thinks he wasn't alone –

There's another thing he's sure of: no one cares)

Time passes, or maybe it doesn't. It's impossible to tell.

He doesn't feel anything.

He thinks that at another time, he might be worried about it, but he's not.

There's darkness.

And then it changes.

There are voices, voices he doesn't know speaking in languages he doesn't understand. He's not sure if they're speaking to him or around him, or maybe if he's going mad.

The voices disappear, and then there's pain.

It's bright and sudden and hot, and he's not sure how he can feel it, but he _does_ –

There's the darkness, and the pain.

Another thing to add to the list of things he's certain of, and it's this: he is going mad.

There's no other way to explain it, right?

***

There's darkness, and pain, and two warm points somewhere on his body –

His body? But there wasn't anything –

“Tony, I've got you, don't move, fuck, Tony –” Words he understands this time. A voice that might be familiar, but might be not.

But it's still not making any sense, because Tony isn't moving.

The next thing he knows, there's coldness, something like ice, worse than that, all over him.

*******

He comes to, shaking. He vaguely realises he's kneeling and someone is stroking his back steadily. He's not hurting anymore, but his eyes are closed. He's afraid of opening them.

What if the darkness stayed?

“Tony,” someone – Peter, it was Peter, of course it was Peter – said. “Tony, look at me, you're safe now, Tony . . .”

Slowly, he opens his eyes. If Peter tells him to, it must mean it's safe. He's still not sure about many things, but he knows this: it's Peter's voice, and Tony trusts him.

He looks. A worried face, blue eyes looking at him closely, blond hair that's so soft in touch Tony never wants to let go –

He reaches and touches, and Peter doesn't push him away, just smiles tiredly as Tony works his fingers between his hair and stays like that, not moving.

“Peter,” he says.

“You back with me?” Peter asks.

Tony's not sure how to answer. The darkness is fresh. So very fresh.

Peter's hands are still on Tony's back, and he pulls him closer now, until their chests are touching and Tony has no choice but to lean against him.

“You're here,” Tony says, quietly.

“Of course I'm here,” Peter answers.

“What . . .” He trails off, because he's not sure what to ask first. 

Peter hugs him even stronger. Tony closes his eyes, because it feels safer somehow. “So if I say magic,” Peter says, “will you –”

“I hate magic,” Tony replies almost without thinking.

Peter laughs softly. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“I don't remember,” Tony says. He really doesn't: nothing past waking up next to Peter, who knows how long ago.

“I'm sorry,” Peter repeats.

_ It's not your fault _ _,_ Tony thinks, but Peter obviously thinks otherwise, and Tony can't really argue with him now.

He's tired, so tired, deep down to his bones, and he knows he does want to remember, to know, but at the moment, he also doesn't want it at all.

Peter's like sun, but Tony's been in the darkness for so long.


	3. too close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First posted [here](http://laireshi.tumblr.com/post/83136046293/starkquill-peter-pain-for-a-change-more). This time, Peter in pain.

Tony spots him from far away; too far to be able to help him, yet, and there are no words to describe how he hates it.

A tall, blue-skinned alien easily twice the size of Drax punches Peter, and Peter stumbles back and laughs all through it. He spits blood and stays on his feet, stubborn as always.

Tony can’t risk using his repulsors yet, not when he’s too far and Peter _could_ move and get hit instead. Tony tries not to look too closely as the alien catches Peter by his throat and lifts him, and Peter’s hands fly up to grasp at the alien, helplessly.

The three seconds it takes Tony to get there feel like three years.

But then he’s at them, and fires at the alien, doesn’t pay him more attention as Peter falls down to his knees, gasping for air.

“Steady,” Tony says, and puts one hand on Peter’s back, trying to stabilise him. His systems flash warnings about Peter’s physical state, as if he couldn’t see with his own eyes just how bad it was.

The thing with close calls is – they’re always too close.

“Iron Man,” Peter grins at him, finally. It’s terrible, his jaw is already swelling, he has a black eye, and there’s blood all over his face, and Tony wants to kiss him senseless or maybe yell at him to stay safe next time.

“Can you walk?” he asks instead, doesn’t wait for the answer and scoops him up in his arms. Peter doesn’t even protest, just leans his head against Tony’s armoured chest, but Tony catches a wince of pain on his face all the same. He feels guilty, but he has to get them out of there.

“My hero,” Peter says, his voice rough.

“I’ve got you,” Tony agrees.

Peter gives him another weak smile and passes out.

***

Peter’s eyes flicker open as Tony touches a wet towel to his face, trying to wash away the blood. He’s already put bandages on all the many cuts on his body and taped his ribs; fortunately all of Peter’s injuries are superficial. It’s how many of them he has that’s dangerous.

The other Guardians are still on the other side of the galaxy, where they were looking for Peter. Tony told them he found him, but there wasn’t time for chatter when he still had to take care of him.

And now … Now nothing would make him move away.

“Fuck, Peter,” he says, softly. “Don’t do this again.”

“Don’t get kidnapped?” Peter gasps. “I’ll try. They advertised better conditions.”

Tony closes his eyes, inhales. “I was worried.”

Peter touches his hip, pulls him closer by his belt loop. “Come here,” he mutters. His words are slurred, of course they are, he’s got a split lip and bruised jaw and Tony shouldn’t, but he goes after him and kisses him gently.

“Just a few days apart,” he says. “And I’m fine.”

Tony laughs, shakily, and he closes his hand over Peter’s wrist, feeling his pulse, strong and steady, and he doesn’t think of how he could lose it.


End file.
